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respect for the alms-giving services that Emmett and his
fellow "What do you call them? Oh, yes, Diggers!" were
doing for the young people of the nation who strayed to San
Francisco.

A coincidence popped into Emmett's mind, and he couldn't pass
up the chance to see if he could pull off a fabulous score--the
kidnapping of the governor and his wife. In the most sincere and
charming tone of voice he could muster, Emmett informed George
and Lenore Romney that coincidentally, at that very moment, there
were more than one hundred Indians from his home state of
Michigan eating in the park with the "hippies," and it
would be wonderful and extremely thoughtful of the governor and
first lady to stop by and visit with the people from home. He
didn't have to say anything about what good publicity it would be
for the folks back in the Midwest. The good governor had already
weighed its value, and Emmett watched as it registered with a
click of his eyes and a cluck of his tongue.

What happened next, Emmett didn't exactly expect, but
immediately picked up on it. The governor threw his arms around
him and said with a smile, "Emmett, suppose you take me and
my wife over there to meet with your people and the Indians from
our state. What about it?"

"My truck's right out front, Governor, and I'd be more
than happy to oblige. In fact, sir, it'd be an honor."

The three of them moved quickly outside, and George Romney
helped his wife, Lenore, into the cab of Emmett's Free Food
pickup, just like a midwestern farmer would've helped his wife
into a pickup truck, all dressed up for Sunday and on their way
to church. Maybe that's when Emmett decided not to do what he
didn't, and then again, maybe not.

Besides the three of them, everybody else was confused; the
state troopers, the city cops, the FBI, the reporters, the
Methodist ministers, everyone, and the only thing they all could
think of doing was to go along with the three, in the flatbed
open back of the pickup truck. They all started climbing onto the
rear of the truck at once. There were over a hundred of them, all
fighting for a place to stand, with the reporters pushing and
shoving each other but remaining very careful to avoid nudging
any of the FBI men, who were already standing up straight in each
of the four corners of the truck's rear. They had everything
covered.

The half-ton pickup was just about to collapse under the
weight of the maddening crowd, when Emmett yelled to the governor
to [end page 449]